“Then why blame Sebastian for doing the same?”
“Because he didn’t tell me about it. How can I trust him?”
Lily rubbed her forehead. It took a lot to annoy a psychologist, but I was managing to do it.
“Maybe Sebastian wanted to avoid this very conversation,” Lily said. “I can’t say I blame him. Perhaps the man just wanted to do a good deed in exchange for your help with his door. He couldn’t have known that you two would become lovers. By the time you did, maybe he didn’t want to rob you of the pleasure of seeing your art appreciated. He didn’t want you to doubt yourself. Sooner or later, you would have gotten noticed. Again, word-of-mouth. That’s all Sebastian did, and not taking credit for it is an act of love.”
“Love?” I waved my hands. “Whoa, no, no. We never talked about… that. I mean, he never said that—”
Lily smiled. “Sometimes a gesture means more than a thousand words. He might not have said it, but hasn’t he proved it?”
I gaped, speechless.
Lily patted my bare thigh and stood. “Close your mouth, honey, and go to bed. It’s late.”
As I walked her to the door and we said goodnight, I wondered how I was supposed to sleep after that discussion. I’d never thought about the situation the way Lily had. No wonder people paid her lots of money to listen and help them fix their issues. She was good.
And I was—with the risk of repeating myself—a moron.
* * *
The next morning, I awoke determined to rethink my relationship with Sebastian and excited to start painting Ben’s house.
I made myself a couple of badly burned eggs that made me think of Sebastian’s superior cooking, and strategized how to approach him. Should I apologize? That was new territory for me. I’d never been the jerk in a relationship before.
Sebastian hadn’t contacted me since opening night, when he’d texted to check if I’d gotten home safely. Despite feeling hurt, he’d still checked on me. That was the last I’d heard from him.
If I wanted another chance, I’d have to take the first step. We both had something to make up for. I only hoped he still wanted me in his life.
Hasn’t he proven that he loves you?
Lily’s words echoed in my head, making my stomach flip. Talking to her had been cathartic and eye-opening. She was gifted at reading people. I wished she were right about Sebastian.
After I finished breakfast, I threw on yesterday’s work clothes and headed out by 8:30.
At Ben’s house, I stood in the living area, facing the primed walls. Ben had given me free rein, and the art I’d chosen for this room was a graffiti-style nocturnal New York skyline reflected in the Hudson River, with matching urban art and sculptures.
I turned up the AC, plugged in my phone, cranked up Metallica, and positioned my ladder. Taking a deep breath, I shook my can of midnight blue spray paint and began outlining the lower half of the skyline. Hours melted away as I worked, completely absorbed. My arms grew sore, but I didn’t care. By afternoon, the lower half was nearly complete, the reflection inthe Hudson shimmering beneath, creating a surreal sense of depth.
I moved to the upper half, mixing indigo and black to capture the buildings fading into darkness. The city’s iconic skyscrapers emerged, bold and dynamic. As I sprayed, I couldn’t help but feel a connection to the city itself. New York had always been my muse, and now I was bringing my vision to life on this canvas. My heart filled with satisfaction. This was what I lived for—to capture the essence of the city, to breathe life into my art, and to share it with those who appreciated its raw beauty.
After thirteen hours of work, I climbed my apartment stairs with energy still left. I stopped at my door, looking up in the direction of Sebastian’s apartment. I wanted to see him now, but smelling my sweat-soaked clothes, I hesitated. Maybe shower first?
As I debated, I heard insistent knocking above me. I craned my neck between floors and saw a woman’s long, tanned legs in red stilettos at Sebastian’s door.
The door opened and Sebastian’s voice drifted down. “Candi, thank God you’re here. I need you.”
“I got your text. It was great to hear from you. I missed you, Sebastian,” his ex-girlfriend replied.
They went inside and the door slammed shut.
I slipped into my apartment, unseen, and slid to the floor. The image of Candi’s legs in those lethal stilettos stabbed at my heart. Sebastian had moved on—or back—to his ex. Several days of abstinence had been too much for him.
This was clearly a booty call. Knowing what an incredible lover he was, I couldn’t blame Candi for rushing back to him. Sebastian Wright was every woman’s dream of Mr. Right. If you wanted someone to screw your brains out and make you amazing pancakes afterward, Sebastian was your guy. Who could say no to that?
Tears ran down my cheeks and I told myself it was PMS. Had I pushed him back into Candi’s arms? In recent weeks, I’d thought we might be soul mates. What an idiot! If he’d had real feelings for me, he would have tried to talk sense into me like Lily had. I sniffed back tears, wiped my face and picked myself up. Sebastian was a manwhore who would never change. Better to be rid of him now before things got serious.
Then I stopped dead. What was I doing? Presumptions. Assumptions. Jumping to conclusions. I was making the same mistake that caused our breakup. If I’d been wrong before, couldn’t I be wrong now?
